


Oathkeeper

by Fangirlinit



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Lord Of The Rings AU, royal au, slight non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6981109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlinit/pseuds/Fangirlinit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Queen Alexandra of Rohan, war with Lord Saruman is but a stone’s throw away. It has been months since a familiar Ranger from the North came bringing ill tidings and now Alex must make her toughest decision yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oathkeeper

“The problem lies in numbers. The Urak-hai are too many to be defeated by our cavalry. We must call all able-bodied men and boys to service. Summon masters of villages and farmsteads if we have to. If we wait any longer, our enemy will outnumber us ten-fold.”

The captain of the guard looked to his countrymen around the table. Not one of them presented without arms or livery. They were as ready as they would ever be.

“We must strike them,” he affirmed with a strike to the table, “and we must strike them hard!

Astra’s eyes soared to the cavernous rafters of Meduseld. She wondered how the great Golden Hall of Edoras could contain such bloviating.

“Save your sensationalism for the banquet hall, J’onn J’onzz,” she remarked with an air of disdain. “As advisor to the queen you have a duty to caution, not mead-soaked counsel. The art of victory is not through all-out battle but in stealth and well-planned tactics. It would be beneficial for you to take your warmongering in stride and bear all alternatives in mind, especially when your lands are on the verge of being overrun by orcs.”

“How dare you lecture me. I have more right to speak than the likes of you.” J’onn’s head shook on his muscular neck. Scorn overcame him with a snort. “Ranger of the North. Ha!” he barked. “You are no more welcome here than you would be in Isengard. Saruman himself would not have you if your heart was as black as coal and your shield a flaming emblem of the Eye itself.”

Astra snarled in livid disbelief. One of her companions restrained her before she could throw the first punch.

“I’ll be hanged if I share battlements with a half-blood.”

Astra turned her shoulder in and curled her lip. “I’ll supply the rope.”

“Why you fork-tongued harpy!”

Astra cried out in a tongue only her companions understood (with shocked gasps and widened eyes) and launched herself at him from across the table.

“Peace! All of you!”

Everyone froze in various combat stances. The assembly of advisors both Rohirrim and Dúnedain stared in open surprise. When they came to their senses, they lowered their fists and held their spiteful tongues.

The Dúnedain had wrenched their captain off the table and dusted her down in apology. Always the last to obey during these meetings, Astra muttered to herself before meeting the eyes of the monarch and nodding out of respect.

Having silenced the entire hall, Queen Alexandra of Rohan stood from her gilded throne. “Peace,” she repeated smoothly. “We are leagues from Isengard and more still from Mordor. Far enough to retain some sense and reason. Saruman’s forces wait at the edge of our lands, poised to destroy everything in their path and you bicker like children. I will not stand for such hatred to darken my halls.”

“Apologies, my lady.” J’onn head rose from its bow to reveal ever-present concern. “I only propose these dreadful steps as a means to protect what is ours – not simply our lands and our people but our heritage.” He waved his hands, directing them to the carved pillars and tapestries   “Under every roof there is a treasure to be safeguarded. What right does an orc have to it? They would sooner burn it with the rest of our bodies.”

“Houses can be rebuilt,” Astra pointed out. Her deep tone contained a perseverance that left no room for argument. “Trinkets can be replaced. Lives cannot.”

“Spoken like a true Ranger. Do you have a home, Astra? A birthright? Do you have heirlooms handed down to you from your forefathers? Of course not. You might not even know who your ancestors from a dwarf! You travel light and leave behind anything as pointless as ornaments or loved ones. There is no difference with you Rangers. You are all stone hearts and cursed blood.”

“J’onn!”

J’onn’s head twisted. An eerie stillness settled on the hall. The Dúnedain had their eyes set firmly into the fire, fighting shame at the truth that was spoken. Astra’s eyes held the flames as well, but they did not glisten as theirs did. There were shameful deeds in there that she did not speak of with her men or any other.

J’onn met the fierce wrath of his queen’s presence. Never had he heard her speak to him in such a way. As her captain and counsel, J’onn spent many years learning from a woman ruler (the first in Rohan’s history) and she acquiring a few things from him. He had taught her how to hold a sword, how to throw a punch, and when to stay one’s hand when need be. To hear Queen Alexandra, his little Alex, sharpen her words with him stung more than he ever would have thought.

He cleared his throat and nodded.

Queen Alexandra held his gaze a moment longer before blinking away. She swallowed hard. Forgoing the comfort of her throne, she moved down the short stairway with grace. Her long brown hair stirred with the supremacy of her steps.

“The last forces we sent against the Urak should be bound for Edoras. This council will convene again when J’onn has received word of their victory.” A shock of pallor overcame the queen as she paused in consideration. Her lips parted; a slight tremble ran through her before she pinned them shut. “Or in the case none return… we prepare another memorial and lay our fallen to rest.”

Even in the firelight, Queen Alexandra’s expression remained sullen. The years spent protecting their borders from attack displayed in frown lines around her mouth and the dim shade in her eyes.

Without another word, she swept away to her quarters.

The assembly broke with semi-cheerful spirits. A few grunts of hope here and there, but nothing resembling the courage their people were known for. The perpetual danger haunting their kingdom had drained that from them like a leech siphoning blood.

They went their separate ways, guards returning to their posts while others going home to sup with their families. After bidding goodnight to her companions, Astra slipped away to trail after the fluttering hem of a gown.

Padding down the hall from one rune-carved flagstone to the next, Astra kept her adrenaline in check. J’onn knew exactly where to prod and had stirred a deep-seeded contempt in her that could not be easily pried. He knew exactly how to test her patience so that her true colors presented front and center.

Their rivalry had origins in a past forgotten by some and yet they saw fit to remember. Their war, steeped in distrust and mixed bloodlines, was showing no signs of cease fire. Although their vows to Rohan went hand-in-hand they’d sooner sever their own wrists to save them the torment.

And yet they chose to keep their blades in their scabbards only because they knew how disheartened the queen would be. The spilling of either of their blood would pain Queen Alexandra more than any other’s. Their oaths held them accountable to any woe suffered by the queen. In that, Astra and J’onn shared common ground.

Astra loosened her grasp on the bitter thoughts J’onn had triggered – dreams of a handless fool and all. She breathed and held her chin up. It would do no good to engage the queen in dispute so early in the morning. The both of them had enough antagonism on their own to send the entire continent of Middle-earth into strife.

Astra’s eyes held fast to the hem of a dark evergreen gown. It fluttered over the flagstone runes like a stream over river stones, caressing them to smoothness.

Oblivious to her own fingers grasping at air, Astra did not see the queen whirl around.

“You could walk a hundred strides behind me and I would still detect you.”

Screeching to a halt, Astra overcame her surprise with a frown. “How did you –“

“Your breathing.” The queen raised a brow and smirked wryly.

“Must be the wind.”

“You’re not that good, Ranger of the North.”

Head rising in a slight nod, Astra thought better of it. Instead she trailed the queen’s figure with lovesick eyes. “It seems I have been corrected. For when have I ever owned up to such a virtue as goodness?”

Stalling at an elegant waist, Astra could tell out of the corner of her eye that the lady was showing her disapproval. And yet… disapproval of a different sort. A cock of the head at that angle was reserved more for the childhood companion or even the secret lover. Maybe even both, if the queen’s compassionate eyes and heavy breaths were anything to go by.

“I am standing in the presence of perfection,” Astra continued. “How could any other tip their head in such a way and not lose their crown? How can I compete? I may not be good but it is goodness that draws me so near to you… Alex.”

Alex bit down on a smile.

The dawn shined in through stained glass windows depicting battle seasoned horses and their famed riders. But when a golden ray touched Alex’s glee it pulled her attention to present matters.

Alex regarded their surroundings with an anxious sweep of her head. “What occurred at the assembly today…”

“Ah, yes.” Astra looked away with derision. “That cabbage headed –“

“ _Astra_ ,” Alex reprimanded. Her brows pinched together with all the sternness a queen could muster. “You would do well to ignore him. He only desires to get a rise out of you and he is succeeding – unfairly, though I doubt I can do anything to discourage it. You two argue with the intensity of trolls. You _both_ will be the death of me.”

“Do not say that, Alex. J’onn and I have our differences but we would never cause you harm.”

“Not intentionally.”

Astra’s hand reached out. “Alex…”

Alex waved it off with a note of blasé. She pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead, closing her eyes as if fighting an illness. “Let us speak no more of it.”

The weary strides were taken with concern. Astra knew the queen’s perseverance rivaled that of countless kings before her, but she left none for her own benefit. Alex put more effort into carry others’ burdens than she did in sharing them. She always concealed her torments and never asked for help.

It was her stubborn nature that made her a great queen but also a weak one. It left her open to attack as demonstrated by Maxwell Lord. The scheming agent of Saruman could have done extensive damage, but Astra took her oath seriously. She would have bloodied her knife sooner were it not for Alex’s annoying need to uphold due process.

She fell in beside Alex at a thoughtful pace. They proceeded down the halls walked by many a king, none of whom she'd know were it not for the written histories. Astra hadn’t a liking for books, but she did appreciate the library at Rivendale if only for its engineering.

“Why do you expect so much from me? So much righteousness?”

Alex gave a short laugh. “Why do you continue to test my patience?”

“Because your willfulness to do battle tests _mine_. There is a reason kingdoms retain a guard. Rohan fights the wars so their queen does not have to. It is the way of the world.”

“That is _not_ how I was raised. I will not let them die for me, not while I have breath and sword.”

Astra shook her head at the irony. “Patience,” she echoed dryly. “J’onn may ride out onto the field and stick those filthy orcs, but I? I am left within these walls to keep a stubborn queen where she belongs.”

Alex’s smirk could have passed for sarcasm but they both knew better. Grim times called for grim curiosity. “Then why do you stay? It is not like the Dúnedain to nanny incompetent rulers.”

“Trust that is not by choice.” When Astra’s teeth ceased her grinding, she slowed her pace and offered Alex her deepest promise. “You are far from incompetent.”

“I never asked you to suffer on my behalf.”

Astra’s chin touched her chest. At first, it seemed that she had been silenced, but then, out of desperation, came a small request. “Then do not suffer me to see you despair.”

Alex knew that voice, stripped of its usual pride. It made her heart flutter against her ribs and the tears sting behind her eyes. She knew that voice. She knew it like no other could tip her crown and make her flee hand-in-hand with a dream.

With a huff Alex wheeled around to cut Astra off. “You are in my good graces only because of your loyalty to this house.”

“What about the time I slit the throat of your most trusted advisor?”

“That was a case of grave disobedience for which I have forgiven. If it had not been for your investigation, an agent of Saruman would have put _me_ under the knife. You and your Northmen have proven your worth to me and, more importantly, to the people of Rohan.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Yes,” Alex responded with a vehement incline of her head.

“So you keep me here not because of the way I make you feel?”

Alex could tell how little fight she had remaining. Even as Astra took her hand like she always would and drew her deeper into secrecy, Alex felt herself slipping down a river from which there was no return. The mettle of the Dúnedain cast her respectability into the hearth, demanding a courtship of flame and ecstasy. There was no turning back.

Led by the hand, Alex shook her head numbly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When I do this…” Astra leaned in close enough for shadow to engulf them. She encased the slim figure with her arms like it had no equal, not even with gold. Her lips grazed Alex’s cheek until they landed in kisses to her ear.

Alex instantly rose up into her, gasping sharply. Her whole body reached out for Astra, pleading to consummate what they had yet to finish. Night after night they met in the wings of the great hall with nothing to show for it but heated embraces.

Unbeknownst to her mind, her body screamed for it. Alex could not break through the haze that Astra’s passion had created. She was nearly sure she didn’t want to.

“I wholly confess,” Astra mumbled against rosy skin, “your sighs bewitch me. So too your obstinance and your tears, your smiles and songs.”

“You have never heard me sing.”

“You have never caught me watching.”

She took Alex in a deliberate kiss. It was not enough to melt their fears, but it did bind the aims for which they were entrusted with. To banish death and torment… They could no more do it alone than they could without kingdom or fellowship. With tangling breath and tongue they shared a promise to protect the souls they held dear, to remember those departed, and to make a better future for those souls not yet born.

Their kiss developed with the broad, greedy strokes of Astra’s tongue. Alex’s whimpers filled her open mouth to the brim. Laces unfurled and a moan sounded but before they could fulfill their lustful wishes, Alex tore her mouth away.

“Lye astald sai.” Alex mouth saddened around the Elven-tongue, but not due to ignorance. Astra had taught her the Sindarin form and Alex, knowing how much it meant to her, practiced tirelessly until she had it mastered.

Astra watched the corners of Alex’s mouth turn down. She pressed their foreheads together and brushed her thumb against the despairing cheek. “Il am,’ A’maelamin,” she murmured. Her hand went up to stroke Alex’s hair. “By any means, you always do enjoy taking the risks.”

For as often as these meetings occurred, they always ended the same. Alex did not take Astra for a fool, so she did not try to hide her disappointment. She could be cruel when she wanted to, especially when it served a purpose. Banishing Astra from her presence could have been done with backbone. But when faced with the rosy-cheeked, sincere object of her affection, Alex would not resort to deception.

Astra accepted the order as she always did. She may not be Alex’s subject, but she did possess a devotion above all others. She looked down at the hands in hers and traced the jeweled ring of dearly departed King Jeremiah. Every promise she ever made to him she held in her grasp.

As always, she complied with the queen’s command and removed herself from sweet company.

* * *

The Dúnedain went by many names: Northmen, Rangers, Dúnedain of the North. These men had all the skills of killers and were therefore proficient in battle tactics and wilderness survival, and notorious for their grim manner. Their way of the blade, bow, and spear went largely uncontested in their domain of Eriador, but few ventured South.

Keepers of Rohan, these six Dúnedain had not intended to leave their patrol in the North. The boundaries they kept safe were as much a limitation to their fantasies as they were to hostile foreigners. Their watch kept out the mystery and long forgotten adventures of old. They dared not step over the line. That was, until Astra came along.

And so the six Dúnedain became seven. Their honorable chieftain, an outsider in her own right, opened the gates of their minds and led them to untold dangers, wonders, and delights. The moment they left the green fields of Eriador they became outsiders together, a fellowship bound by friendship and love.

These keepers of Rohan, these masters abandoned of the North, had a decision to make. A decision so immense their lives hung in the balance. But not just their lives.

The seven Rangers sat together at what they had termed the “war table.” When the time came to make a decision regarding Rohan’s fate, there was no argument. They had already discussed in private with Astra.

Across the table from them sat the Rohirrim. Most if not all of them avoided the tough, shadowy expressions of the Rangers. J’onn was one who held their gazes, offering each of them a view of his courage. When the daggers of his eyes hit Astra they narrowed. Warning sliced through the thick, tension-filled room. She received it with little reaction due in part to the speaker in their midst.

“… and so we come to a choice,” the queen said. She had since deserted her perch to confer with them on even ground. Oblivious to her own pacing, Alex continued. “There is only one. Our only hope of survival is to make for sturdier fortifications.”

Alex sensed a wave of anxiety pervade the council. Whispers under breath and shakes of the head caused her worry to spike. Nonetheless her persistence was legendary. She had prepared for this.

“Urak-hai skirmishes have plagued our borders for months,” Alex declared, raising her chin as her father had taught her. “Saruman is probing our defenses, looking for weaknesses. We send men to push them back and so few return. If we give up, evil forces have free reign through our lands.” Alex paused in her pacing and took in the ancient rafters of her Golden Hall. “These fortifications were not made to withstand a ten thousand strong assault. The opportunity to preserve our heritage has expired. We have no choice but to retreat behind safer walls.”

“To where?” J’onn pressed. He showed little signs of shock at this decision. He had seen it coming and knew best how to play mediator in these situations. “Where can we go? Who will take us in that haven’t already been seduced by Saruman’s favor?”

Astra slipped out of her relaxed position by uncrossing her legs and straightening her back. “Not all have bowed down to the dark wizard,” she claimed. “There are still those in Middle-earth who have retained their goodwill. Lórien –“

“Lórien is three days’ ride from here. Would you ask women and children to make such a journey? With the Urak on their heels and the heat from burning stables at their backs?”

“It is a far better fate then what awaits them here.”

“You do not speak for my people.” Hands on his hips, J’onn turned to Alex. “I beseech you, my queen, just where does this great trek end?”

Alex answered without tremor or hesitation. “We will make our stand at Helm’s Deep.”

“The Dúnedain are with you,” confirmed Astra as did her men with collective nods.

J’onn witnessed this blind obedience (or intimate camaraderie?) and seethed. He shot up, his chair screeching against the stone floor, and upheld in a booming voice, “No Ranger has entered the fortress of the Hornburg, and if they have they did not go unescorted.” After shooting a scathing look across the table, he affirmed for his queen. “The Guard make for Helm’s Deep as well.”

Astra rolled her eyes.

“Thank you, J’onn,” Alex said with a pleased bow of her head. “I know this will be just as overwhelming for your families. We have a perilous path ahead with no certain outcome. We may make war at great cost, but we do so for the good of Rohan.”

With the final decision made, the council went on to discuss the finer points. They went into topics of supplies, armor and weapons, the mobilization of men, and route of passage. When the last suggestion had been exhausted and their throats thirsted for mead, the meeting came to a close.

The hall emptied of councilmen leaving only three. Alex rose a brow at her two most trusted advisors. The gravity with which they approached set her on the edge of a knife point.

“Is there more to discuss? Or do I have yet another quarrel to break up?”

“No quarrel,” J’onn responded casually.

“Then why does your face not agree?”

“J’onn and I knew you would suggest a retreat,” Astra said. “We just didn’t know where.”

J’onn shrugged. “I suppose Helm’s Deep is better suited to our chances than Gondor. I hear Lord Denethor’s hospitality is wanting of late.”

Alex panned between them. The back of her neck crawled against the foreboding these two were giving her. “What is going on here?” She folded her arms over her chest, leaving no room for nonsense. When neither spoke up, she shot them a severe look. “Do I have to issue a formal edict?”

Astra’s and J’onn’s eyes met. He nodded for her to speak.

“While the Rohirrim have a sixty mile road ahead of them, we will make for Helm’s Deep by a different path.” Astra’s relaxed manner became stiff. She shifted to J’onn with an air of uncertainty, perhaps even concern. “We will follow the White Mountains in the East. The terrain is rougher but it is passable if we stay close to the foot of the range.”

Alex looked between them with an unsettling feeling. Why were they acting so strange? And why on earth was Astra looking to J’onn for support? Whatever the explanation, Alex probably wouldn’t like it.

“Who is ‘we?’” she demanded.

Their queen was a smoking firecracker on the verge of going off. Astra gave J’onn the signal with a slight tilt of her head.

“I think I’ll take my leave,” he said, backing away.

“I have not dismissed you, Captain J’onzz.”

He froze mid-step. Tucking his head down, he returned like the obedient servant he was.

“Alex…” Astra started.

“Explain. Now.”

The warning tone did not deter Astra. She did, however, expect this and came up with a strategy. “Not three days ago you were talking of sense and reason. This is no different.”

“You use a queen’s words against her. How dare you –“

“How dare you assume I wouldn’t,” retorted Astra. “You know me, Alex. You know I am not one to back down in the face of authority in any shape or form. If I have something to say I will express it without fear of reprimand.”

“I _thought_ I knew you. I _thought_ our friendship strong enough for you to abide by my decisions.”

“That is not friendship, that is intimidation.”

In a split-second, Alex lost sight of her power and position. Shaking the fists at her side, she advanced on Astra with eyes ablaze. “I’ll show you intimidation!”

J’onn stepped in with raised hands. “I think we are straying from the issue. Alex, we are only proposing an alternative route for your safety.”

“Proposing? You are doing nothing of the sort!”

“It is best for the people and for you,” Astra defended.

Alex pinned her with a narrowed gaze. “It is best that a ruler stay with her people.”

“They have the entire Rohirrim arm leading them. We have scouted a safe route through passable terrain. The wagons should have no trouble overcoming obstacles. And they are being led by the captain of your guard. They are in capable hands.”

Alex’s shoulders sagged. The fight was being dragged from her whether she liked it or not. “How did this plan arise? Forgive me, but I cannot see the two of you as partners. Since when have you become friendly?”

“When it concerns your safety and wellbeing,” Astra replied matter-of-factly.

Alex fought the urge to put her foot down. It would do no good to act out like a child. “You conspire behind my back.”

“Saruman knows your weakness and he will expect you to accompany your people to Helm’s Deep. We must outwit him if we are to defeat him.”

“Even more reason for me to stay with them!” Alex argued. The nerve at her temple twitched. She looked Astra over, hunting for flaw in her unseen armor. When it came down to it, it wasn’t Astra’s armor that gave her courage but her heart.

At a loss for argument, Alex sank into despair. “How am I supposed to lead if I am not there? How can I protect them? If I run the other way… what does that say about me as a ruler?”

Astra grasped her shoulder. “What does it say about you if you get yourself killed? Rohan needs their queen _alive_. What good are you to them otherwise?”

“It is a wise decision.” J’onn spoke his peace like the background piece he resigned himself to. When it came to the queen and her personal bodyguard, there was no other in the room that mattered to Alex. “One your father would heed.”

“My father is not here,” snapped Alex. She mulled it over. How could they spring this on her? Did they not respect her authority or had this turned into a democracy? Her face warmed with anger. “You have left me with no choice.”

J’onn’s mouth twisted. He would have motioned for a compromise and volunteered to take Astra’s place but something told him he’d be overruled.

The queen made a point to give them a sense of her disappointment – clicking her tongue at Astra and shaking her head at J’onn. Her patience had been in short supply all day, so she uncrossed her arms and stalked off.

Astra made to follow but Alex shot her a glare, stopping the Ranger in her tracks.

Not this time.

* * *

The following day Alex spent away from the company of Astra and J’onn. There was no want for excuses as she was a queen with ample duties to attend to. One of which happened to be informing her subjects of the journey ahead. That she accomplished without relish.

On the second day she continued to avoid any confrontations through a series of private preparations. Like a true father’s daughter, Alex brushed down her steed for the long journey, put whetstone to blade until it drew blood from her finger, and went about the sorting of supplies.

On the third day they set out for Helm’s Deep by way of the mountains. Even in Astra’s presence, Alex hardly spoke a word. She held fast to the anger Astra and J’onn had drawn out. She held on like a wild cat with tooth and claw, but terrified to let go after all her perseverance.

The exercise helped temper the worst of it. It was as Astra had said, rough terrain although passable along the very edge. These parts were not like the vast, open plains Rohan was most known for.

As they rode north, the ridges rose like snow-capped spires. The White Mountains were on their left, always on their left, with Isengard to their north and Mordor to the East. Helm’s Deep and the Rohirrim waited ahead. They still had forty miles to gain – five before they lost daylight.

When the sun reached a juncture behind a crested peak, Astra called them to a halt. They chose to stay the night in a small clearing. It was enclosed in plenty of foliage to block the light and smoke from a campfire. To attract attention at this hour and without reinforcements would be most unwise.

Before setting out they took additional precautions in concealing Alex’s identity. She left her stately garb behind and donned the climate appropriate clothing. The silk gowns were traded for a dress made of rough hewn, the sort of material that accompanied long stretches of riding. Her dark green travel cloak was pinned together at the neck and draped around her for warmth.

These steps were necessary for someone of Alex’s stature. If sighted now, she would be taken for a commoner instead of a sovereign ruler. But to Astra she was still as elegant as a queen regardless of what she wore.

Alex dismounted and began unpacking her rucksack while Astra evaluated their site. As a Ranger who covered a vast array of landscapes, she knew shelter when she saw it. It would do for the night.

She turned her gaze west to the mountains with their pale cusps piercing the dusk. She hoped Saruman had not foreseen their trickery. If he anticipated it, he would have a score of orcs set on their trail and Astra would be forced to drive them into the deep crevasse of the mountain. She dared not plan that far ahead. No one – Man or other – who ventured there ever returned.

After judging the sunset, Astra’s gaze turned back to the horses. “Did you remember to bring it?” she asked as she set about unpacking.

Alex threw an insufferable look over her shoulder. “Bring what?”

“Alex! How could you forget? Especially after that snake Maxwell tried to stab you in the back – _literally_. That’s why I gave it to you in the first place – to _protect_ yourself.” Astra grit her teeth, shaking her head at the absurdity. She may be wounded but she’d walk Mordor’s blistering lands barefoot before she’d show it. She flung the jacket of her bag over. “I worked hard to temper that steel.”

The fiddling slowed to a stop. Alex’s eyes dropped and strayed to Astra’s boots. She fought to keep her focus there but it proved difficult. The strain in Astra’s voice always made things difficult. “Of course I brought it,” she said quietly and went back to sorting her supplies. “How could I not?”

They didn’t speak for a while after. It became commonplace during the journey so it didn’t change anything on the outside. But beneath the surface their longing simmered for fuel of a word, a kindness, anything that offered forgiveness. If only they were not so alike. Maybe then one of them would have caved.

Stubborn wills and silence persisted through supper. They avoided speaking over mutton, black bread, and spring water, but there were plenty of stolen glances as they chewed through their meal.

When one of them finally spoke up it came as an emboldened voice.

“I know you compare yourself to your father. I know you doubt yourself. I have known many things about you, Alexandra, all because I have been by your side.” Astra picked at the crust of her bread before tossing it into the fire.

After a brief pause, she lifted her chin and met Alex with a determined gaze. “Being queen means second guessing everyone around you. I understand the isolation. I especially understand your eagerness to fight, but you must realize that your life is more important than your subjects’. You are their moral compass, their guide, and bereft of that they would wander aimlessly until they fell into some damnable pit from which there is no return.”

“You have no faith, that is your problem.” Alex’s demoralized spirit fell away to an almost infantile petulance. “But then you never did take to _goodness_.”

“I am sick to death of your behavior,” Astra rumbled. “If J’onn were here now he’d say the same. And your mother… Even _she_ agreed to this plan.”

Alex rose with a snarl. “And you know all about mothers, don’t you?”

Astra’s eyes flared, but she didn’t take the bait. Her teeth clamped down and she seized forward, taking the queen by the shoulders, and not gently either.

“You are not some shieldmaiden, Alex, you are a queen of Rohan. Act like it.”

“You are as overly critical as she,” discharged Alex. The disappointment in her eyes when she said it indicated just how strongly she depended on Astra’s opinion. “I cannot win with either of you.”

“Eliza cares about your wellbeing and so do I.” The swift change in Astra’s tone affected her entire expression so the two matched in softness. “You rule with a just hand. You do your ancestors proud.”

“Not proud enough to lead them. Not enough to take up a bow and cut down orcs for them.”

Astra’s hands fell from Alex’s shoulders. “There will be plenty of orcs to slay when we reach Helm’s Deep. Until then you are in my safe keeping.”

“I don’t remember a time when I was not in your keep – bars and all!”

Astra didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or shoot daggers from them. “Dramatics do not suit you, my lady.”

“You will have your way with me if it means locking me up in a cage and killing in my name. Knowing my skill with a bow, you would kill just to spite me.” Alex barked with bitter laughter. “By sacred Halifirien, you would have me watch my enemy slain at your hand, knowing I couldn’t do the same.”

“You have abandoned reason for madness. Truly.”

A sharp echo accompanied the hand that cracked against Astra’s cheek. Blood rushed to the surface of her flesh and shaded it pink. Astra kept her hands at her side, not speaking. They stared each other down with ache in heart and intentions spinning wildly out of control.

“I am not about to sit on my laurels while my guard takes risk of death.

Astra could take no more of it. She turned on her heel and began a furious pacing.

Throughout the entire first leg of their journey Alex had been all sagging shoulders and downcast eyes. Since setting out from Edoras, the willful queen had only acquired more of that resolve – and more than Astra could take. A person only had so much patience on reserve. At a loss for an alternative, she did something about it.

“Release me!” Alex gasped. Appall replaced anger in light of Astra’s manners. It was appalling in the way she took her arm, the way she gripped it in a sincerity bordering on malice. The foundations of Alex’s courage shook. Astra communicated something in her gaze that seemed hell-bent on taking her. In what way, she couldn’t hazard a guess.

“How dare you handle me!”

The hand disappeared. Alex went to rub the soreness out, but was taken by surprise when she felt herself falling.

Sturdy hands took her around the waist and yanked her forward. Astra’s mouth stifled the yelp and laid a passionate if not rough siege to Alex. When the kiss ended she didn’t give Alex time to recover; she swung her around and kept her prisoner with an arm around her waist.

A tremble passed through them at the intimacy of the embrace. Astra prided herself on dismantling the Queen of Rohan with a look, but treasured her skill to provoke through physical contact more. She could acquire the slightest whimper with a whisper of an exhale.

It wasn’t that Alex was easy. She was far from easy. It took quite a battle for them to get this far and Astra would not back down just because the queen resorted to principles.

The air around them thickened in the moonlight. Astra’s breasts heaved against Alex’s back as she pressed into her. This encounter had no equal, not in the past and surely not the imaginings of their future.

A fire sang through Astra’s body as it resembled the longevity in her blood from her mother’s side. To consummate the impossible breathed life into her. She knew all of Alex’s weaknesses, anticipated them as an oracle anticipated prophecy. She knew one weakness in particular and decided to test it.

She began by stroking the cheek with chaste lips, then kiss and nibble at her ear. She felt Alex relax a bit, so she clutched at the dress until it bunched in her fist. With an arm still braced round a waist, her other hand slipped underneath the dark burgundy gown with ease.

Her breath came hot and fast against Alex’s ear. “Tonight you are mine.” She arranged another assault of nips and groaned at the urgent arching of Alex’s back. “My oath to keep.”

The second her finger met flesh a gasp sounded. It sliced through the thick, sensual ether like a blade. The reaction made it seem as if Alex had woken from a dream. With eyes flung open and heart racing, she resisted.

“I am a queen,” Alex argued in a half-moan.

“You are not _my_ queen,” Astra maintained. Her severity deepened, pulling her pretty features into a frown. She breathed audibly, lips trembling in fervor and engrossed over a furious pulse point. “To me you are a woman and in need of reining.”

“I am no _horse_.”

“Maiden of Rohan, do not your tapestries record the tales? Are your kings not personified as great beasts…?” Astra hand slid up a smooth thigh, “All corded muscle…” her tongue met Alex’s throat, “pulsating heart…” she inhaled the scent of Rohan’s waters… “and long, thick hair?” She turned her mouth up so it latched on Alex’s earlobe. She sucked hard until the leaves shook to Alex’s moan. “Are you not that beast?”

The only reply Alex could manage came in the form of a staggered sigh.

Virtuous, tender kisses turned to open-mouthed kisses. Astra sought flesh through fervent strokes of the tongue and a nipping from her teeth. She was course but passionate, unpredictable yet purposeful. Her hands were all over Alex, running down her front to tease the heat between her legs before drawing up to her hair. She grabbed it in fistfuls and brought their mouths together. The kiss left Alex disoriented and Astra had to smirk at the sight of half-lidded eyes.

She wasted no time in removing her stifling obstacle. Grasping the dress’s seams from the small of Alex’s back, she tore it open with a jerk of her hands. The resounding tear of cloth mingled with Alex’s shriek. The cold air hit her nakedness with a force that knocked the wind out of her.

Astra gaped at the quickening wave of gooseflesh. She felt a need to seek its warmth and replace any that had been lost in her haste. Alex… so elegant and yet so willing to endure the burdens of others. She’d lay down this naked body before a whip just so her subjects could go on living.

While Astra succumbed to reverie, the gown slipped from her limp fingers. It rippled and pooled at their feet.

With Alex in nothing but her undergarments, Astra returned her to a warm embrace. She could not see Alex’s face, but she felt the body stiffen under her roaming touch. “Do not torment me with a struggle. I know – “

In an impressive feat that would leave Astra stumped, Alex overcame her. She twisted in the embrace and freed her arms as well as her breathless voice. “You know nothing.” She grabbed Astra by the sides of her face and thrust their mouths together in a rough kiss.

Astra’s lips parted in a moan. She tried to hide her surprise but it proved difficult. Alex had always been so gentle in the past. Although she showed her eagerness to please, her inexperience had a tendency to hinder her advances in stumbling words and clumsy hands. Astra tilted her head to give Alex deeper access and ceded a bit of control as a result.

Alex took the offered bottom lip between her teeth, sucking hard before tugging it in for another kiss. Their teeth clacked and their mouths smacking in a clumsy attempt to either murder or make love. They knew not which.

Nails roughed along Astra’s scalp. She threw her head back with a cry. Alex seized the opportunity in taking her by the base of the throat. Her lips landed hard, teeth bruising the skin. The force of it sent Astra backpedaling. She spun them around, causing them to trip over their feet in the process. Alex fell back with a grunt, Astra strewn atop her, but they did not rest. Whatever injuries they sustained, be it of the flesh or the heart, were thrust out of mind.

The imperfections of the forest ground could be felt through the blanket Alex lay on. Astra had her pinned. It would have been all too easy to scream – not to attract the attention of a heroic knight but to snap her pursuer out of this madness. Alex succumbed for a moment and considered the options before her.

“Ohhh.” Alex’s lungs expanded with the gasp before she let out another.

Astra spread Alex’s legs and rubbed against her sex harder. The motions of her thigh came in sync with the voice echoing back. Astra was too dazed to distinguish complaint from enthusiasm. She did have control over the sensation of touch. Alex’s pale, petite figure shuddered from underneath so Astra laid down and acted as her shield against the chill.

Their sighs uttered in the night. To finally meet, skin-to-skin and close enough to count a heartbeat, tipped the scales of their potential. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to Astra that Alex, being groomed to rule since birth, had not lain with anyone. If she had, she didn’t see fit to tell Astra. In a way, it didn’t matter. They each had a past before this night (perhaps one more grim than the other), and yet Astra learned to see time not in terms of deeds but in lifespans.

Being with Alex now, moaning with her, rolling as one, and biting at breast and shoulder, Astra could not give a damn about anyone’s past. There was new beginning in Alex’s lips and the way they latched on to hers. It boded a fresh and forgiving future; one she’d like to start with this soul above all others.

At the time when Astra was seeking new territory, Alex was coming to her senses. She gave out an animalistic cry, heaving herself forward to throw the Ranger off. Astra backed off but her fingers remained inside her. Her bold endeavor had them sunk in at the knuckle, teasing at first but stilling instantly in light of Alex’s resistance.

A fog rushed out of Astra as she panted. Her eyes were staring wildly and her chest rising and falling in a quake. She waited for an order, one she had always heeded. It would hurt to hear the words come from that mouth, especially after having kissed them as she had not a moment ago.

But no banishment came. No punishment fell. She received nothing but a rigid mouth and livid eyes. It was not rejection worth her time, so she thrust forward.

Alex’s reflexes were quicker. She had observed her surroundings. When Astra made her move – as expected – Alex’s hand snatched out into the darkness and returned with a flash of steel.

Astra froze. She dared not even swallow under the stinging blade she tempered with her own two hands. Their eyes met with an air of curiosity. Astra’s brow raised. The blade pressed in, testing her pride which flinched in response. Astra knew trials as much as the Queen of Rohan. She responded through example by offering a wider mark for the knife to slice through. With chin raised, she waited for judgment.

All around them the night when on – the cauldron simmering over a popping fire and the wildlife rustling in the weeds. Everything went on as it had for three ages – war and sacrifice, ash and honor, rule of law and the smashing of it. It continued as all cycles would save for the meeting of a half-blood Ranger and a queen. For them, time halted with heavy panting and a knife in the dark.

Alex’s jaw tightened at the gall. A litany of “How dare you’s” swam through her mind, but before she could give voice to profanity, the fingers resumed their teasing. The unexpected pleasure stole the air from her lungs. Her brow furrowed as she gave out a breathy groan.

With the edge of the blade digging into Astra’s neck, she began to move her fingers. She was inside Alex and coaxing her walls with a stroking of fingertips. Intimidation turned to tender ache. Astra felt the breath hitch from under her and she joined in without realizing.

The blade tumbled to the ground, forgotten through their lovemaking. A part of the handle caught the light of the fire, giving form to the engraving. Carved around the pommel the flowing script of Elvish glowed:

_Brave One, love of mine._


End file.
